


T-Birds to the Bone

by Lucky107



Series: Rock 'n' Roll High School [2]
Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Crude Humor, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Mischief, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7726774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn't go out of her way to make conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	T-Birds to the Bone

**Author's Note:**

> Prowlin' - Adrian Zmed & Co. - 1982

**September, 2004**

"Oh, my!  How exciting: a room full of fresh, vibrant faces so early in the morning!"  The decidedly attractive art teacher says with overbearing fondness.  "Welcome to Art 1!  I'm Ms. Philips and I will be your arts instructor here at the academy."

This is the moment that An has been dreading the most: a student at the far side of the room is asked to introduce himself with his name and a specific highlight from his summer vacation.

She knows Ms. Philips is expecting her to lie and assure her classmates of what a pleasure it is to be at Bullworth Academy, but she also knows exactly how that kind of remark will go over.  She's a lot of things, but she's no brown-noser - especially not on her first day of class.

Bullworth Academy is supposed to be her second chance.

When her turn comes around and the doe-eyed Ms. Philips looks at her expectantly, An says, "The name's An Hoàng.  Spent the summer workin'."

"How ambitious!"  Ms. Philips notes, but she doesn't pry for details.  "Thank you, An."

When Dr. Crabblesnitch thought to mention that An might feel out of place being back in the classroom again, she had thought he was only being a smug bastard.  The more time she spends on campus, however, the more she begins to realise that he was right—she hasn't been in a classroom in _years_.

An is drawn from her thoughts when Ms. Philips drops a standard-issue sketchbook on her desk and smiles.  "I know it's going to be tricky for you, but try to make some friends.  A smile will go a long way."

Even though An nods agreeably, she doesn't go out of her way to make conversation.

Most of the class passes by quickly once she sets to work and she's completely involved in making her sketchbook quota when someone takes a seat opposite her.  "Hey," an unfamiliar and nasally voice says.

An glances up from her work briefly to confirm the person in question is her, but finds herself met with a curious stare.  The boy looks young, but his face is rough - scarred - and his eyes are sullen.  He's also wearing a denim jacket over his school-issued uniform.

_A real rebel, this one._

"—is it Ann?"

"Sure," she says, accepting the mispronunciation that his Brooklyn accent offers.  "You?"

"Kids call me Lefty."

An allows a comfortable silence to come over them, but the boy continues to express a curious fascination with her.  It's on the tip of her tongue to say something to him, but she doesn't want to risk causing a scene.

Not that it takes long for the situation to sort itself out: "Say, you look real familiar, Ann—you from the area?"  When she nods, Lefty nods, too, and says, "Thought so.  I think we went to school together.  Where've you been holin' up all this time?"

"Around."

An is eager to change the subject and - much to her surprise - Lefty doesn't press it.

Another silence, this time a little more awkward, grows between them until he finds the room to complain: "I hate art."  His sketchbook is completely empty.

"Ms. Philips seems nice enough."

"Of course Ms. Philips is nice," he says with genuine laughter and it entices a small smile from An.  "I mean the subject.  I've never had much luck with it, you know?"

"Don't think art's supposed to be about luck," she offers, turning her sketchbook for him.  "I'm no artist, but just like anythin' worth doin', it takes practice.  Though... maybe Ms. Philips would be open to some private, one-on-one instruction..."

They share a smile—a _real_ smile—and return to work.

As it turns out An struggles with concept while Lefty can't figure out the execution.  Sketching seems to be the root of all evil for both of them, but he has a modest interest in abstract watercolour paintings and she expresses an artistic curiosity for chalk pastels.

Time passes quickly with someone to waste it with and, before they know it, their mandatory sketchbook quota for the week is complete.

"I'm in the shop after lunch," Lefty says as he tucks his sketchbook under his arm.  Much to An's surprise, he adds, "I'll put in a good word for ya with the guys and see how things fly.  You interested?"

"Sure am."

\- - -

When An arrives at the bowling alley, the party is already in full swing.

It looks suspiciously like a scene in that movie that nobody liked, but she sees herself in and slips right into the crowd without drawing too much attention to herself.

She's no longer a nobody in New Coventry, but she's not exactly 'somebody', either.  The greasers have only just begun to familiarize themselves with her name, so she's a long way from being able to saunter in like she owns the place.

"Ann!"  That distinct Brooklyn accent gives Lefty Mancini away immediately.

He flags her over with a face-splitting grin and she drifts in his direction through a crowd of unfamiliar faces.  "Lefty," she greets with a nod.  "Crowded t'night, ain't it?"

An had been hesitant to accept his invitation because she had hoped to avoid the party scene and she had never been much of a bowler, but the alley is a common hangout in New Coventry because of the cheap soda and ice cream.

"Is it?"  Lefty remarks, but he seems to pick up on her apprehension and he gestures to his seat with candid friendliness.  "Here.  Sit down."

Given the overcrowding of the alley, it's going to be a cozy night.  An immediately bumps elbows with a stranger on her opposite side and he turns as if to scold her for it.  When he discovers she's not Lefty,  his expression softens and he asks, "Lefty, who's this?  I didn't know you kept female company."

"She's—"

"An Hoàng," she interrupts.  He's been mispronouncing her name ever since they met and if she hopes to have a future with these people, she ought to give them a fair chance.  "We've got Art 1 t'gether."

The stranger offers his hand to An and she obliges with a shake.  "Ricky Pucino.  That's my girl, Patti, at the far end there."

Upon hearing her name, Patti - a senior girl, An recognizes - offers a flirty smile.

"It's a pleasure—"

"The pleasure's all mine," Ricky says.  The ever-familiar call of pins being struck returns their attention to the game and he offers, "Looks like I'm up.  Listen, you stick with Lefty 'n' you'll be goin' places 'round here.  Hope I'll be seein' you around, kid."

An snorts and sits back in her seat, but she offers an agreeable 'sure' in response.

Truth be told, there's nothing she would like more.


End file.
